


Don't Say Good Night

by scratchfliprepeat



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, an attempt at a character study at least??, im not strong enough for the Hot Mess that is nagito komaeda, we all know how this is gonna end
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 21:15:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30078456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scratchfliprepeat/pseuds/scratchfliprepeat
Summary: "What are you doing in my cabin?" Hajime said. He took tentative steps forward as if there were hidden traps nearby. There weren't, Hajime knew how ridiculous he was being— but you could never be too careful when Nagito's involved.Nagito's smile was easy when he responded. "Do you mind? I'd like to stay over tonight."Yes, I do. Was what immediately came to mind. He couldn't outright say that, though. He stopped right at the turn from the main path to his cabin, the same path that Nagito was currently on. His shoulders were squared— for what, exactly, he didn't know.—Between the investigations, killings, and all the other happenings, Nagito Komaeda sometimes sleeps over at Hajime Hinata's cabin.But they weren't friends.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 3
Kudos: 40





	Don't Say Good Night

Hajime Hinata took the long route to his cabin.

For a brief moment, the end of the class trial almost felt like _victory—_ a breathless exhilaration as adrenaline raced through his veins. He was quickly reminded of how childish it was to feel that way when Fuyuhiko, the stoic, distant Fuyuhiko, begged for Peko to stay. The adrenaline curdled into a dread that weighed heavy on his stomach when he saw Peko fight for her life on the screen, a cheap parody of entertainment. He was reminded of how grave the situation was, how they were simply disposable players in Monokuma's sick game, when Fuyuhiko was injured in his attempt to save Peko. Giving Mahiru justice wasn't any sort of reprieve. He gleaned from whispers and conversational snippets that Sonia, Nekomaru, Kazuichi, and Akane regrouped at the Hotel Restaurant. Hiyoko had fled once Fuyuhiko was shipped off with the ambulance— one can only assume that she hid in her room. He last spotted Ibuki at Rocketpunch Market, perusing the many items found there. As for anyone else, Hajime had no clue. 

Hajime took a long stroll by the beach. Ocean waves crash on the shore with a steady rhythm. The air was salty as it ruffled Hajime's hair, swept up his tie in the draft. It was the picture-perfect scene of a night on the beach— and it _should have been,_ as they were promised a school trip. It doesn't change the fact that Hajime was walking away from a school trip with three casualties. His thoughts swirled in his head— snippets of Mahiru in the past few days, the moments he caught Peko and Fuyuhiko in the same room, the game that everybody promised not to play (but still did). 

Hajime took a turn and saw the hotel gates and the cabins that lie beyond. He knows that there are now _five_ vacant cabins. It was only a couple of days ago that Mahiru was chiding them about something or other, Peko hiding in her cabin as usual, and Fuyuhiko being his usual elusive self. Only a few days ago when Kazuichi dragged him along to peep on the girls' swimming trip— where the murder was happening right under their very noses. If Hajime decided to go to the beach house early, could he have stopped it? These thoughts continue to swirl in his head as he trekked down the cabin bridges. He ignored the mailboxes with their faces crossed out (though he couldn't help that note that Fuyuhiko's wasn't one of them). How _fast_ does Monokuma act— and why does he feel the need to cross their faces out? Everyone already knew that they were gone. It was just tasteless and disrespectful at this point. However, knowing him, Monokuma probably thought that it was some sick joke. 

Hajime was ready for another restless, light sleep— when he noticed a figure by his doorway. Upon advancing, Hajime soon found out that it was none other than Nagito Komaeda. He was partly shrouded in shadow, his pale skin and white hair further highlighted by the moonlight. He was slouching against the cabin— his foot stuck to the door, hands hidden in his pockets, head slightly inclined. 

Nagito's eyes slowly focused once he heard footsteps. He turned his head to see Hajime on the main cabin bridge. His face lifted instantly. "Hey, Hajime!" He waved his hand overhead in an exaggerated swoop.

The heavy dread in his stomach quickly hardened to— something he can't quite name, something much more personal, but just as bitter. Nagito's betrayal involving Teruteru and Byakuya was still fresh in Hajime's brain. Especially with how Nagito played him like a flute, leading Hajime to evidence that Nagito planted himself. He stopped in his tracks. 

"What are you doing in my cabin?" Hajime said. He took tentative steps forward as if there were hidden traps nearby. There weren't, Hajime knew how ridiculous he was being— but you could never be too careful when Nagito's involved.

Nagito's smile was easy when he responded. "Do you mind? I'd like to stay over tonight." 

_Yes, I do._ Was what immediately came to mind. He couldn't outright say that, though. He stopped right at the turn from the main path to his cabin, the same path that Nagito was currently on. His shoulders were squared— for what, exactly, he didn't know.

"I don't have any spare beds." Was what Hajime managed to say. He was sure that Nagito knew that much. From the cabins that Hajime had visited, Monokuma and Monomi don't provide any spare beds. "No couch, either."

Nagito turned his head to the side, his thin hair sweeping along as he did. There was always an easy, slippery way to his movements. "Hm." He said thoughtfully. "That _is_ a problem." 

"Yeah." Hajime said bluntly. A completely necessary input. 

"Sorry to inconvenience you, but can you accompany me to Rocketpunch Market?" Despite the wording, it felt less like a request. Nagito kicked himself from the door, didn't even lose his balance as he righted himself, then strolled forward— into the path that Hajime was blocking (he dimly registered that he should walk out of the way, but he had completely frozen up). He stopped at a safe distance from Hajime. Hajime should really move. "We can get some sleeping bags." 

Hajime resigned himself to the fact that he wouldn't be getting rid of Nagito tonight. He stepped away. "Sure."

Nagito walked past him easily. Hajime was forced to trail after him. He watched his green parka sway with his movements— left, right, left, right. His mind drifted once again to earlier events, Mahiru, Hiyoko, Fuyuhiko, Peko, shuffling over and over again. Nagito was unceremoniously tossed into the mix. 

"Hey," Hajime said tentatively. He was unsure if he should even ask, but still. "Did you ever notice Fuyuhiko and Peko together?"

"I don't think so, no." Nagito said in that all too carefree tone. It vaguely felt like bullshit. "Fuyuhiko wasn't exactly the most sociable person out there."

Hajime nodded reluctantly. That much was true. "And Peko wasn't open about her past either." He didn't know why he even asked— as if Nagito would know anything. 

Nagito hummed in agreement. It was silent after that. Hajime shot Nagito wary looks every few seconds, but he was able to tear his eyes away to look at his surroundings. He was half-expecting for someone to pop out— who, exactly, he didn't know. He had the strange feeling that he was conspiring with Nagito. They were just going to get sleeping bags. Soon, Nagito started talking, and Hajime was swept up into the conversation. It was too late when Hajime realized that he was prying information about what happened when he was gone— but it was mostly harmless information. 

It was a steady bout of chatter until both of them arrived at Rocketpunch Market. The lights were almost blinding, Hajime could feel his eyes stinging even as he blinked his eyes rapidly. Hajime immediately scanned the room for Ibuki, but they were the only patrons around. They explored Rocketpunch Market together. The pair of them mostly stayed in each other's periphery as they explored different aisles. They first stumbled along the hardware aisle, where there's a rack of rope. Nagito was already holding one, the rope looping around his hands and pooling around the floor. His face was cloudy, unreadable other than the tint of curiosity. 

"This was the same rope Kazuichi and Nekomaru used to tie me up." Nagito said in a light, conversational tone as if he wasn't talking about his abduction that happened very recently. His expression didn't even shift. 

"It is?" Hajime asked. He felt uncomfortable talking about it so openly, so freely, but he _was_ part of the conversation. It felt like he was walking on eggshells of his own making, since Nagito didn't seem to mind at all. 

"Mhm." Nagito said thoughtfully. "They caught me off-guard that morning. I only knew how much time had passed because of the clock, you know. I was given breakfast late too, since _you_ didn't feed me." With that, Nagito raised his eyes, and bore holes into Hajime's face. He looked... sad. It was like looking into guilt-trippy pictures of starving children who were slimmed down to skin and bones. They already expected that you wouldn't do anything about their pathetic state. Hajime had the feeling that Nagito didn't even know that he was doing it.

The eggshells weren't completely unfounded, after all.

Hajime shifted uncomfortably. He… _did_ genuinely feel sorry at that. But as he remembered, Nagito was talking about tempting Mahiru into playing the game, right after he _just_ pulled the stunt with Byakuya. So when he managed an, "I'm sorry." It came out somewhat resentful. 

If Nagito detected that or not, Hajime couldn't tell. After all, Nagito only smiled brightly. The very fact made Hajime's stomach churn. Was he going to say _more?_ How could Nagito act so freely about everything? He carelessly tossed the rope back. The tail end still stuck out to the floor. "Doesn't matter. You guys were nice enough to let me off someone like me, anyways." 

"...Right." Hajime remarked. He felt a little lost— a familiar feeling when it came to Nagito. 

"You find anything?" Nagito asked. Just like that, he was back to his usual sunny deposition, and even with how hard Hajime looked, he couldn't find any traces of resentment. Even then, Hajime was still wary of the fact that he felt the need to bring it up in the first place.

Hajime realized that he had been staring too hard when Nagito raised his eyebrows. "N— No." He said, a moment too late. "But maybe we can find something in the camping aisle? That's where sleeping bags usually are." 

"That's right." Nagito said. "Let's go, then?"

With that, they continued to tour Rocketpunch Market. Their steady chatter filled up the store. He couldn't help but notice that the racks were always filled up to the brim, even when no one tended to them. Soon enough, they found themselves at the sports aisle. Hajime wanted to walk away as soon as possible. 

"I— I don't think there are any sleeping bags here." Hajime said quickly, past his tight throat. 

Nagito ignored him and walked into the aisle. Hajime could hear his heartbeat pound faster with each rack Nagito walked past— past the baseballs, tennis rackets, hockey pucks, and _right_ into the rack of bats. Time stopped when Nagito stood over the damn things, his hands still tucked into his parka pockets. 

"Hm. These were the same brand you found at the crime scene, right?" Nagito was almost hypnotized as he looked over them. His eyes were still gray, but something was lurking behind, lighting them dangerously. It was reminiscent of the time in the first class trial. His voice was still completely even. 

There was that feeling again. Frozen in place, unable to move. Distantly, he knew that the next moments would be terrible. It was like watching the beginnings of a car crash. He should stop Nagito and pull him back here. He should walk away. He couldn't move his body. He could barely force himself to nod. 

"I see." With that, Nagito deftly wrapped his fingers around one of the bats— the bat that was damn near identical to the one that lay by Mahiru's corpse. "I wonder how she was able to do it. A single blow, right?" He shifted to turn away from the rack— and faced Hajime directly, who was still standing at the end of the aisle. Hajime's heart stopped in his chest. He was very aware of the way his feet are rooted to the floor. "You'd have to be at a certain angle to hit her head." He raised the bat overhead. The shadow beneath him stretched on the white tile, a caricature that was nearly touching Hajime's feet. "But no, Peko was shorter than me, so she must have— " He lowered the bat slightly, around Peko's height.

And the store was torn away entirely— the racks and shelves stacked together to make the green walls of the beach house, the white tiles change into quartz. Fuyuhiko watched as Peko held the bat over her head. Mahiru was sprawled out on the floor, her hands thrown out in front of her, scared out of her mind—

The bat tipped backward, the beginnings of a swing— 

"Enough!" The shout was torn from Hajime's throat without him realizing. His voice echoed in the store— the very same store that came back to him all at once. It reminded him of where he was right now. It didn't distract him from his heart throwing itself against his ribcage repeatedly, echoing in his head. Before he even realized it, his hand was already thrown out, his chest was heaving. 

Nagito looked at him, white eyebrows climbing along his forehead. His eyes were almost clear, almost lucid, but not entirely. "I'm just trying to figure out how Peko did it." He said innocently, grating on Hajime's ears. 

"Look." Hajime still hadn't lowered his hand. There was only one thought prevailing in his head— _He should stop this._ Distantly, he knew that nothing would change if he let Nagito continue. Distantly, he knew that it would be an insult to Mahiru and Peko's memory. Everything else was so _distant,_ secondary, other than Nagito still raising the bat overhead— and Hajime, who was _here_ and had to do something. He was still gasping for breath as he continued, "Class trial's already over, right? I thought we were going to look for sleeping bags?" 

Nagito's confusion was almost childlike. "If you say so." He lowered the bat to his chest (and didn't swing it downward, thank _god)_ and deposited it right back into the rack, where it clattered beside its fellow bats. When grouped up together, the identical make is much more obvious. The bloody bat, one that he examined only hours ago, came to mind easily. 

Hajime swallowed. "Let's just go." It was only hours ago when he stood over Mahiru's body. He looked at his feet and only saw Nagito's shadow.

Once they continued their search, he found that the aisles in his periphery were far off, fleeting. The lights overhead were bright, almost dizzying, surrounding Hajime at every turn. Nagito was unaffected, still with that stubbornly carefree expression. It was like it had been _nothing_ to him— Mahiru, Peko, Fuyuhiko, Byakuya, Teruteru— their names, their faces, their memories, it all clattered in Hajime's head. And Nagito was still strolling on like it was _nothing._ He was still continuing forward with that lazy saunter.

"You're pale, Hajime." Nagito looked over his shoulder. 

Hajime consciously unclenched his teeth. "I'm fine." 

"Hm," Nagito examined him from head to toe curiously. He didn't look disapproving by any stretch of the imagination, but it didn't stop Hajime from feeling too vulnerable, too exposed right into the open store. "No, you're not." 

_How did you expect me to react?_ Hajime asked. Instead, he shook his head and shut his eyes so hard he saw stars. "It's _nothing,_ alright?" Even _he_ could hear how he was verging on a yell. He couldn't bother to watch his tone at the moment. Nagito can deal with a little bit of attitude from him. 

"Did I scare you?" That same _godforsaken_ light, conversational tone. He turned on his heel to face him. He stopped walking entirely— that same _godforsaken_ easy way he moved. "Hajime, someone like you should overcome such an easy obstacle." 

The words _someone like you_ and an _easy obstacle_ rattle in Hajime's brain, forcing him to stop in his tracks. Standing completely still like this only made it very obvious that Hajime's heartbeat was still loud in his ears. It wasn't _easy_ by any stretch of imagination, and minimizing Peko and Mahiru as _obstacles,_ it felt downright insulting to both of their memories. He didn't ask to be put in this situation. In fact, he was quickly growing tired of this place and he wanted _out._ He never asked for something like this. 

"I said that it was nothing." Hajime said instead.

"You're lying." Nagito said. He sounded surprised by his own findings. "That's not very righteous for an Ultimate like you, you know."

That was _another_ thing. He was supposed to be on his way to Hope's Peak Academy— because they found something worthwhile in him. This stupid trip took _that_ away from him, too. And out of all people, only _he_ didn't remember why Hope's Peak Academy picked him. His frustrations were quickly merging into an enormous headache. He puffed his chest out, raised his head. He could _see_ Nagito taking a step back in anticipation. He could see how Nagito was starting to raise his hands to placate him—

Hajime was very aware of what was happening to him at the moment. He took a very long breath. All his anger quickly melted into weariness that set deep into his bones.

"Can you just— " All the drowsiness from hours earlier washed over him in an instant. He was suddenly reminded that they were out late in the night. He searched for words for a moment. "Why are you even doing this?"

Nagito's eyes were wide, remorseful— and nothing of the lurking darkness from earlier. He raised his hands as a placating gesture. "I'm only saying the truth. The road ahead would be _far_ from easy, and you can't let yourself get down this early on." Hajime realized how childish he was being. Sitting around and acting like a _baby_ wasn't going to get him anywhere. Did he seriously let Monokuma pull one over him like this? This was _exactly_ what he wanted. He kicked himself for allowing it in the first place. Then Nagito plowed on, "Are you going to give up right now, Hajime Hinata?"

Hajime felt rattled up, scrambling as he tried to make sense of his bearings. He didn't _need_ to prove himself to Nagito, of course. He also couldn't stomach the idea of looking weak. "No." He said tentatively. At Nagito's curious, somewhat urging look, he continued. "No, _no_ of course not." He said more decisively. 

Nagito smiled, his whole body following as he did— he tipped backward ever so slightly, his shoulders raised, his eyebrows lifted. "I _knew_ you would say that!" Hajime _wasn't_ smiling. There was no reason to smile. But he allowed himself a small tug at the end of his lips. "I _know_ someone like you is meant for great things." 

Hajime rubbed a heavy hand across his eyes. He wondered if he could even sleep tonight. "Let's just get your dumb sleeping bag." 

"Of course!" Nagito said brightly. He continued forward with a pep in his step. "It would _just_ be like a sleepover, don't you think?"

"That's if we actually get out before morning." Hajime didn't mean to actually say that. But Nagito started laughing, so it couldn't be that bad. 

Hajime wondered what a sleepover with Nagito would be like. He would find out soon enough. He should probably resent the idea more. (He didn't.)

* * *

Setting up Nagito's space in the room was easy.

Nagito had always been a polite guest. He had practically begged himself into the smallest space of the room, to which Hajime had to argue and allow him into more room. Hajime was already being an ass by letting Nagito sleep on the _floor_ in the first place. The least he could do was give him the space he needed. It was unnecessary for Nagito to fit himself into a corner anyway. 

"Your room is rather empty." Nagito remarked from the floor.

That felt like an insult. Looking at Nagito, who was peering around the room, it looked like an observation. "I never really found the time to decorate." Hajime said simply.

"Did you think that you wouldn't stay this long?" Nagito asked. It was still with that airy, curious tone. It still felt accusatory.

It wasn't… It wasn't just _that,_ at least. "I didn't find anything to decorate my room with. Anything I liked." 

"A minimalist approach! How practical of you, Hajime."

"...Let's go with that." Hajime said. _Minimalist_ sounded much nicer than being boring or having no real interests. 

When Nagito turned away to fix his blue sleeping bag, Hajime felt like he just passed a test. It was uneventful after that. Nagito squeezed himself into his sleeping bag while Hajime flopped under the covers. Despite the fact that Hajime purposefully faced the opposite direction to ignore Nagito, it felt like his presence was clogging the room. 

Hajime never really had anyone over. He was the type to knock into people's cabins instead of inviting them into his own. There _were_ a couple times he had guests over, but it wasn't often. There were always better places to visit. There was also the fact that it was _Nagito_ involved. This was the first time he had him over. He knew that Nagito could have mindlessly barged into the room before Hajime ever walked in— he already saw Nagito ransacking the other people's rooms. He also knew that they tied down Nagito for a reason (slightly extreme, but not unfounded), and that was because Nagito was untrustworthy. To let Nagito stay in this room like this for a whole night… It wasn't the smartest decision.

He didn't kick him out.

These were the thoughts that kept swirling in Hajime's head as he fell into his first bout of unconsciousness. Sleep came in short, fitful, bursts. Hours were spent with Hajime actively chasing sleep, and _realizing_ that he just fell asleep— and waking up with that realization. It was a frustrating cycle as he tossed and turned in bed, and the sheets tangled with his body as he went. 

"Does my presence bother you that much?" Nagito's drawl was half-slurred with sleep. Hajime was jealous.

"No." Hajime consciously had to keep his voice level with Nagito's whispers.

He could hear Nagito grunting as the sleeping bag rustled with his movements. Now Hajime was _guilty_ for waking him up. Was he that much of a light sleeper that Hajime was able to wake him up by— by turning around in bed? 

"Nnnngh… What are you thinking about?" Nagito's voice was slowly growing clearer. Hajime really felt bad for waking him up now. Then again, he _did_ ask to sleep with Hajime that night.

Hajime was… Thinking about a lot of things. Most of it messy and half-nonsensical, melting into his dreams that might have been nightmares that push him back into reality. It might have _started_ with Nagito, but it quickly evolved to— (PekoMahiruHope'sPeakMonokuma) a lot of things. 

"...It doesn't matter." Was what Hajime decided on. 

"I'll always be honored to hear your thoughts, Hajime." Nagito said, sounding like a fanatic again. Whenever he used that tone, it was usually a sign that he was about to say or do something unnerving.

A beat. Several. There was nothing. 

"...Hajime?" Nagito asked.

Hajime realized that he was holding his breath. He _also_ realized that Nagito was waiting for his response. He sighed and stared at the ceiling. The clean, blank white slate (contrasted to a distant time of popcorn ceilings) was growing to be a familiar sight. This wasn't the first time Hajime had trouble sleeping. This time, though, he had someone with him.

"I— " Hajime started uncertainly. He didn't know what to say either. He just blurted something out to alert Nagito that he _was_ an active participant in the conversation, and not just a block of wood. "The bat." Hajime said, because that was the first thing that came to mind. "None of us played baseball recently… So there wouldn't be a reason for anyone to be carrying a bat except the murder. We should have asked if anyone saw a person walking around with the bat. Peko couldn't hide it in her scabbard if the bamboo sword was sheathed in it." 

Once he started talking about it, it was easier to go on. It felt like wisps of class trial were captured in his room, without the useless comments and panic that swirled in the court. Instead, it was just Hajime trying to make sense of what little evidence he was given. It was almost… _interesting,_ and for a moment, Hajime understood why Nagito kept acting like the trials were games. Hajime also understood that he was too exhausted to continue on that train of thought, and he crashed it completely. 

"You have a point." Nagito said in that all too familiar suggestive tone that meant that he was about to prove otherwise. "But didn't Fuyuhiko initially plan the murder? _He_ was probably the one bringing the bat around. He would be the one who would look guilty. As we know by now, that would be wrong." 

_There it was._ Hajime thought. "Peko would have taken over the discussion by then. She wouldn't let Fuyuhiko get accused like that."

"Would that be enough evidence?" Nagito countered. "Correct me if I'm wrong, but wasn't _Fuyuhiko_ also trying to take the case off her— ?" 

The conversation snowballed into that direction. They continued discussing what pieces of evidence they could have extrapolated on earlier. Their voices were kept to a hushed, low tone, as if they were afraid to wake anyone up. Mostly, it was for Nagito's benefit, who was prone to dozing off much quicker than Hajime could ever hope for. He would force himself awake moments after, knowing that their discussion was left unfinished. Hajime would pretend to be asleep after a couple intervals like this. He soon found out that it was easier to fall asleep, not that he fell _completely_ asleep. It's just that he wasn't pushed into consciousness with a raging headache and a turning stomach— it was dialed down.

As he fell into another bout of short (but surely fleeting) of sleep, he realized that there was no way that type of pillow talk was normal. It didn't change the fact that _Hajime_ started it.

At some point, he inevitably realized that the sun was up when he opened his eyes again. He groaned and smashed his face into his pillow again to try and get a decent amount of sleep. This cycle continued until he woke up to the sound of the faucet running. Hajime glanced at the clock— 6:00.

"Hey," Hajime slurred. His tongue was heavy. He didn't even know if his voice carried in the room. He forced himself to sit upward. He looked around and saw that he was alone in the room. For a barely lucid moment, he entertained the idea that the previous night was just a dream. He tried again. " _Hey,_ Nagito?" 

"Yes?" Nagito's peppy voice filled the room. He soon popped out of the comfort room, his face dripping wet. Some of the droplets caught on his hair. "Where are your tissues?"

"On the bedside cabinet." Hajime said automatically. Once his brain caught up with him, he shook his head. "Wait— Why are you up? Monokuma's Morning Announcement hasn't arrived yet." 

Nagito was already dabbing his face with tissue. Between dabs, he said, "Well I would want to be back before everyone else is awake. I wouldn't dare impose on you for so long. Besides, you wouldn't want to be seen with trash like me." 

Hajime was struck awake with the realization that he _had_ been thinking that for the past night. Even then, he narrowed his eyes. "I've investigated with you multiple times. _You_ want to look presentable before anyone else could see you." 

Nagito laughed. Hajime wasn't joking. It wasn't hard to figure out since Nagito already washed his face before Hajime could see him.

"That, too. How perceptive!" Nagito said. "I could only wash my face since my toothbrush is left in the cabin." 

"Right." Hajime said. He laid back and returned to his losing battle of sleep. Or he was _about_ to.

"Hey, Hajime." Nagito said. "Would you mind seeing me off to my cabin? It would only take a moment of your time." 

_Not wanting to impose,_ Hajime's ass. He blearily wiped the sleep of his eyes and sat right back up. He managed to catch a glimpse of himself in the glass door. His shirt (one of seven pairs, had to be creative in how you would alternate it) was all rumpled up, some of the buttons open. His tie was absent, rolled up in his cabinet. His short hair stuck out in random directions, the prominent cowlick that strangely resembled an ahoge still stubbornly affixed on the top of his head. Drool was still trailing from his lips to his chin— he tried to wipe that away, but it only stuck to the back of his hand instead.

Hajime whirled around to see Nagito raising his eyebrows at his attempt to look decent. He could feel his ears heat up. "Sh— Shut up."

"Was I saying anything?" Nagito asked. He looked amused nonetheless.

Meanwhile, Nagito had the chance to go ahead and prepare himself. His hair still looked like he had never touched a comb in his life, thin and frizzing out in random directions, though that was normal. His parka and shirt were rumpled, _again,_ that was normal for him. However, he was already wearing his parka properly. His eyelashes were shadowing his eyes evenly— no eye crusts or anything of the sort. His chin was clear of drool trails. 

Hajime hurriedly buttoned his shirt together. He somehow didn't consider his appearance when he woke up. He could have at least fixed himself up before Nagito did, he _did_ wake up earlier than him. He was too busy trying to chase sleep to consider that. 

"No need to be embarrassed." Nagito handed him the tissue roll. "Not for someone like me." 

He wiped the drool off his hand and chin with the tissue. Inwardly, he was still cursing out how unfair this was. It was another few moments of trying desperately to flatten his shirt down and taming the godforsaken ahoge in vain. Nagito flicked it.

"Really?" Hajime said disbelievingly.

"I always wondered how that was always sticking up." Nagito said bluntly. "It's just… _like_ that?" 

_"Really."_ Hajime repeated. 

"Oh, how rude of me." With that, Nagito cranked up his smile by _ten—_ which was somehow possible. Hajime felt like he should look away from the sheer intensity. "Good morning, Hajime!" 

"Yeah…" Hajime said. He knew that he should try and attempt to match Nagito's energy, but he was simply too unprepared. It felt like standing on a stage with a hastily thrown together costume and a mental script that he was starting to forget. Or more accurately, it felt like he was barely awake, not even decent, in front of someone who was already ready to take on the day. He ducked his head. "Morning." 

"What a wonderful way to start the day! I'd say that's the spirit, but I _know_ you can do better than that." 

Nagito smiled at Hajime, who was giving him the stink eye. 

Hajime knew that they were only amicable in the morning because they had just woken up, neither of them were truly back to their senses. Reality hadn't rushed in just yet, nobody around to remind them of their current situation. What Nagito did, what Nagito _could_ do, all of those were blurry happenings that paled in front of the man standing in front of him. 

That in mind, he quietly pushed himself out of bed. 

"I had a nice time, Hajime." Nagito said as he strolled out of his cabin. Even _he_ couldn't ignore the big red invitation that was Hajime opening the door for him to leave. "I hope you can sleep better without me bothering you." 

"No, it's alright." Hajime said. Truthfully, Hajime knew that it was the other way around— seeing that Nagito was only woken up due to Hajime's racket, and seeing that he was prone to dozing off with their discussions, it was _Nagito_ who was disturbed from his usual way of sleeping. He was honestly jealous that Nagito was able to fall asleep just like that. 

He watched Nagito walk down the cabin bridges until he reached his own. He turned to wave at Hajime a final time, and Hajime nodded in return. Nagito disappeared into his cabin. 

Hajime, left on his doorstep, realized another thing. Nagito must have been abducted somewhere around Monokuma's Morning Announcement, since he was already gone by breakfast. He also realized that Nagito must have brought up his abduction for a reason.

He stared at his unmade bed and realized that he couldn't go back to sleep. He was too awake to get back to sleep. He sighed and decided to start on his morning routine.

Being early to breakfast was a good change of pace. He was surprised to see Mahiru's pictures clumsily (and horrifyingly) propped up in the corner of the room. He quickly learned that Hiyoko set it up as a tribute, and bore witness to everyone else being aghast at the sight. After the misunderstanding was cleared up, Monomi came with the announcement that another island was ready for them to explore. Breakfast resumed normally short after.

Nagito and Hajime didn't acknowledge each other. They didn't even greet each other once Nagito arrived. He saw that Nagito found himself in a much more secluded table with Gundham and Mikan. Meanwhile, Hajime drifted toward Kazuichi, Nekomaru, Sonia, and Ibuki. He kept expecting for someone to bring up the fact that Nagito stayed in Hajime's room— but the conversation stayed on Hiyoko's odd shrine and Fuyuhiko's state. 

"Man, it sure is weird to see Nagito here." Kazuichi settled back into his seat after getting them all a bottle of juice. "Are we sure it's alright?" 

"It's probably fine." Hajime said. His utensils were strangely heavy. "He isn't dumb enough to pull a stunt again right after the last time." 

_Right after_ was the keyword here. 

"It'll be hard to send someone to give Nagito food if we tie him up again." Nekomaru said. "Just let him be, we have other things to worry about." 

Kazuichi shrugged, and the conversation flowed back to normal. Hajime spared a glance at Nagito, who was laughing at Gundham's poker face, and Mikan looked fairly distressed (though that might be just her natural face). Not for the first time, he wondered how he could act so freely.

"Yep, definitely weird." Kazuichi said.

"Y— Yeah…" Hajime tore his eyes away and returned to his food.

**Author's Note:**

> i have a SHIT TON of ficlets for sdr 2 lets see if i can actually get them out
> 
> that said, holy shit nagito is such a hard character to write. lets hope (pun unintended) i can actually bring justice to this hot mess of a man.
> 
> everyday i think about the tragedy that is komahina and this is what came out of it


End file.
